by Ward, H. M.
My jaw hung open. Eric sounded insane. “He is not using me,” I snapped jumping to my feet. My body was lined with tension. Anger boiled somewhere in the recesses of my mind. Like a string tickling my arm, I swatted at the burning emotion and caught it. The rage coursed through me, violently beating in my heart. Before I knew it I was snarling in front of him, and looking up into his smug face. “Collin left me. That’s why he’s not here. He’s not waiting for a damn thing.”
Eric’s smile widened, “Hmm. Indeed. He’s not using you. He cares about you, but he left you with some deranged demon to slice off your skin down to your bones, and then he allowed your worst enemy to watch over you while you healed. That would be me, in case you missed it.” His brow pinched together as he hissed in my face. “I am the one who wanted to do that to you. I am the one who wanted to see you suffer in so much agony that you died. Me,” he breathed. Leaning back, the anger unpinched his face. Eric’s eyes flicked over my body, then back to some distant spot to the left. “Sure,” he muttered, “That makes sense. That’s what’d I do if I wanted to protect someone I loved, too.”
“The bond broke,” I snapped. The muscles in my neck constricted as I spoke, “He couldn’t feel it. And he didn’t know who I was with or what she was doing. He doesn’t know I’m with you or that he could have lost me last night. He doesn’t know!”
The smile melted off his face. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “But I can still feel you—and our bloodbond isn’t very strong. I sense you, like I sense myself. You were able to sneak up on me the other day, because you were hidden from me. You masked your blood.” His eyes connected with mine and wouldn’t let go. His voice resonated with reason that I couldn’t accept. “Soul bonds do not work like that. There is no hiding. You know it’s true. Ivy. He still feels you, and yet… He. Did. Not. Come.” His lips formed around each word, slowly enunciating the facts.
Shaking my head, I stepped back. “He would have come. He would have. Collin wouldn’t have done that. No.” The pitch of my voice rose the longer I spoke. “He couldn’t feel my pain. He didn’t know… ” The words felt like barbs of wire being pulled out my throat.
The certainty on Eric’s face was plain. “Say what you want, but I think he’s manipulating you. His side of the bond is still there. He still knows where you are and what you’re doing. He chose not to come. He chose to let you die.”
“You’re wrong,” I growled, and turned on my foot to storm out the front door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Before I realized where I was going, I found myself standing outside the high school. It was after the last bell had rung. The parking lots were nearly empty, except for a few stragglers. I stood in the snow looking at the building, wondering if Eric’s words were true when a familiar voice spoke from behind me.
“He isn’t here,” she said, her voice lacking its normal perkiness. Jenna Marie stepped next to me in a pink parka and fuzzy white boots. The faux fur lining her hood encircled her face, with each individual strand of synthetic hair moving in the wind. “He’s not been here for a while now.” Golden hair cascaded from under a pink woolen cap to her shoulders, and down her back.
I nodded, staring at her somber face. She was a Martis. One of Al’s oldest friends. The perky pink girl was Al’s mentor. But everything about her was wrong. The angle of her shoulders, the smoothness of her steps, the line of her lips. She seemed sad. There was only one reason for that. I turned to her and asked, “You know? About Al?”
She nodded, her glassy eyes looking to the side, away from me. “Yes, I know.” She swallowed while looking at a snowdrift that lined the end of the circle drive in front of the school. When she spoke again, her voice was clear and strong. “Al knew Eric would be her death when she found him. She saw it in a vision. So did I. Al raised him anyway. She played her part,” Jenna Marie turned her face back towards me, “and it’s time you played yours.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she shushed me. I bristled, but was quiet. “Collin Smith is one of them. His power rivals most demons, yet he is a Valefar. He has a soul—partly his own, partly yours.” Her blue eyes held sympathy, but also courage and conviction that I didn’t know she had. “You and he are fighting for different sides, and yet here you stand, looking for him.” She paused, looking at me with a slight tilt to her head. “Why?”
I started to walk away. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Martis. There are no sides in this battle. Only living and dying.”
She reached out and wrapped her slender fingers around my arm, stopping me. “That’s where you’re wrong.” She laughed. Her voice was deep, her blue eyes like ice, “You are so incredibly wrong. This is more than life or death. It’s utter annihilation. Don’t stand there and think you know more than me.”
Twisting out of her grip, I shook her off, “I don’t have to listen to you. Martis are all the same self-serving corrupt immortals who are high on power. Go play with Julia and leave me alone.” I spit the words at her, not expecting her to react. Martis pride was one thing. The way Jenna Marie reacted was another.
She laughed one short laugh that made her body lurch forward. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders. Snow clung to her cute hat making her look like a Barbie doll. She was always perfect. Rosy cheeks, golden hair, and a perfect smile. “So, we’ll do this the hard way, then.” She reached out and grabbed me. And I realized, a second too late, that I completely underestimated her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A blinding light faded and when my eyes refocused we were standing in the same place, but everything was muted—the color, the sounds, the falling snow. And nothing moved. It was as if time had stopped. Nearly snapping my neck off, I twisted toward Jenna Marie—the girl I didn’t know. The girl who held more power than I thought possible. My stomach felt as if I’d eaten a bucket of nails. With my mouth hanging open, I slipped my foot backwards, away from her. Uncertain of everything now.
As my head swiveled around, I took in the gray snow that had been brilliant white, and the light gray building that had been red brick. Snowflakes hung suspended in the air in front of us. My breath had frozen and hung in the air where I’d been standing. It was no longer cold, but it wasn’t warm. The biting winter wind was frozen with the snowflakes, neither moving or howling. It no longer caught our hair and thrust it with its unseen fingers.
Jeanna Marie repeated herself, “You do not know more than me.” Her voice was tense. Her delicate arms were folded over her fluffy coat.
Finally finding my voice, I said, “You’re not one of them, are you? You’re not a Martis at all.”
She shook her head. Jenna Marie’s eyes were strange. It was as if they were made of water and gemstones—smooth and so clear that I should have been able to look into her skull. But her eyes had become gray and the only thing I saw was my own reflection. “You think that we’d leave you here to destroy everything in one act of complete stupidity. Angels wouldn’t do that! I could kill that boy! He shouldn’t have saved you. But then, Kreturus shouldn’t have been out. It made using the stone pointless.” She shook her head, as if she was dislodging an unwanted memory.
There were so many things that I wanted to latch onto. But I bit my tongue, and when she stopped speaking I asked, “The stone? You used the Satan’s Stone?” My eyebrows rose as I stepped towards her.
A rushed breath of air released from her lungs. “I can’t pull off this Stasis for much longer. I can only hold time still for a short while. It’s incredibly draining, but you are about to make another mistake. Listen, Ivy. I’m an angel. I was there from the beginning. Before you, before Al, and before Kreturus. I’m one of the ancient ones, the oldest of our kind. I have more power in my pinky than you have in your whole body. You need to know—you’re a pawn in this whole thing.” As her pink shimmering lips moved she spoke at a hurried pace. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it’s too late to free you from this. Too many things were set into motion that can’
t be undone. I did not use the stone. Another angel did. He paid the price and died because of it. Satan’s Stone destroys as it grants power.” Her lashes lowered as she looked to the gray snow-covered earth, “Lorren gave his life to use it during the first war. And everything stopped. The war ended. Demons and angels alike, dropped their weapons, and left. There was peace for a long time—until Kreturus. Until that demon raised his head and started the war over again. But this time, it was more violent than the last. This time, he wouldn’t be stopped. Another angel sacrificed himself. He aided the Martis in trapping Kreturus in that hole in Hell. We lost two of our best warriors trying to defeat the demons. The price of the stone is death, Ivy. You cannot use it.” She glared at me with her bewitched eyes. Her pale skin had taken on a slight shimmer as she spoke. Passion laced her voice as she tried to convince me to stop looking for something that couldn’t save me. But it only made me more interested in the Satan’s Stone.
“An angel used the stone, and died to stop the demons both times?” She nodded. “The solider, the angelic warrior who stopped the first war by holding up the Satan’s Stone—his name was Lorren?”
She nodded again, “Yes, and he died. His wings were stripped off his back as he was smashed to bits. Nothing remained of him. And no one remembered him.” Her expression shifted, looking past me to the horizon as if she could see something that I could not. Her eyes didn’t blink. “Lorren was the warrior who held up the stone.” Her eyes pressed closed. Long lashes swept against her cheeks.
A million questions raced through my mind, but there was no time. “Lorren? Tall, young, thin Lorren? Lorren with black hair, a snarky mouth, and an affinity for healing?” Her eyes flicked open, wide. “That Lorren?”
She nodded. “The gate of the Underworld was named for him… I named it after him. To remember him by… ”
“Ah,” I said, “then I have some news for you.” My lips turned up in a smile. “Lorren is alive.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jeanna Marie’s face was frozen, as still and unmoving as the snowflakes that were around us. “Did you hear me? He’s not dead, Jenna Marie. Lorren is alive. He’s the one who healed me, well, half healed me.”
Her perfectly pink lips twitched as my words sunk in. She shook her head, “That can’t be. An angel can’t survive without his wings. The bones within the wings provide us with energy and… for lack of a better word—magic. They give us power, and provide us with life.” Her head cocked to the side, “And I know what you are thinking. Mine are hidden, as are all of the angels’ wings.” She shook her head, “So there is no way that Lorren survived. He couldn’t have. He can’t. His wings were ripped off his body. The stone’s price was his life.”
“No,” I shook my head, “the stone’s price was his wings. Lorren is alive.” I repeated myself, then added, “I don’t care if you believe me or not. However, I do care about this place,” I pointed to the school, “and the people who live here. I can’t let Kreturus destroy this place. I can’t. Tell me where the stone is Jenna Marie. Tell me where I can find Satan’s Stone.”
Still half dazed, she shook her head, “That’s just it. The stone splits in two so it cannot be used. The second time we found it was a fluke. The second half turned up in the Underworld, of all places. The Guardian gave it to the angel who trapped Kreturus. That angel was the last to have the stone.” She shook her head, “But I don’t know who it was.”
Stepping towards her, I asked, “Why not?” The snowflakes twitched as if they would start to fall again any second. “Why, not? How could you remember Lorren but not the second angel?”
The snow around us hissed as it began to fall again. The world came back into color as noise pelted my ears again, chasing away the silence. Jenna Marie didn’t raise her downcast gaze when she spoke. Her pink lips turned into a faint smile. “Because Lorren was mine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jenna Marie stared at me as snow fell around us. Her face said she wanted to believe me, but there was something in the curve of her mouth that said something else. “Take me to him.”
“I can’t, not yet.” I glanced at her and back at the school. “I need you to tell me something. You’ve been alive long enough to know the truth.” She turned her gaze toward me, suddenly more interested. A lump formed in my throat. I didn’t want to ask her. Part of me didn’t want to know, but I had to know. “How old is Collin Smith?” She started to scold me, telling me to stay away from him, but I cut her off, “Just answer the question! If you were around so long, you would know. The only other person helping me is a fucked up Valefar who’ll rip my throat out when I least expect it! I need you to tell me. Tell me the truth. How old is he?”
Jenna Marie tilted her head to the side, and bit back a word or two. Snow clung to her hair in tiny pieces making the golden tresses sparkle like they held tiny diamonds. The snow didn’t melt when it touched her. “Collin’s young, less than a millennium. But that doesn’t mean he’s safe. There is no such thing as a safe Valefar.”
“There’s no such thing as a safe angel either,” I said. Then before she could speak, I asked, “Why would he hide? Why would Lorren not want anyone to know he was alive?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The basement was empty. The props and backdrops draped the walls casting strange shapes across the narrow room. I padded across the darkness to the worn leather couch, and fell onto its thick cushions. I pressed my hands under the crooks in my arms, trying to warm them. I sat where he sat, where I’d found Collin so many times before. Oddly, we shared the same fondness of small dark spaces that tend to freak most people out. But for me, it provided four walls of safety and comfort. Collin came here when he needed to think, as did I.
Something called me to this place. I effonated inside without disturbing the sapphire serum in my chest, but I was feeling weaker. Locoicia said she removed the venom’s mark and nothing more. I would still die if the poison remained buried in my chest. The toll of the poison did not go unnoticed. Drawing in air took effort, as it became harder and harder to force myself to breathe. I wanted to sleep. To close my eyes and dream, but I didn’t dare. Awake I could resist Locoicia’s calls. Awake, I could defend myself against Valefar, Martis, and misguided angels. The cement store room was four walls of peace.
I leaned back into the cushions, slouching and pushed my hair out of my face. Getting down here wasn’t easy. Jenna Marie wouldn’t leave. She insisted I take her to Lorren, but Lorren isn’t part of my plan. The entire situtation with Lorren bothered me. He’s supposed to be dead and he lied to my face. Those were two serious issues that needed to be remedied. Nothing was as it seemed. No one was trustworthy. Not now. Not ever. Tilting my head back, I gazed at the rafters on the ceiling. They were sprayed with a chunky plaster compound that had collected a lifetime of dust.
His voice made me jump, “Have you reconsidered?” Collin stood across from me in the shadows. His hands were in his pockets. “Or are you still insisting on going through with it?” The tilt of his head, the gleam of his eye were confrontational. He came looking for me.
I didn’t move. Thoughts slashed through my mind in a vortex or doubt. My eyes lingered on his lips for a beat too long, before they slid away to the floor, I said, “No. Have you reconsidered?”
He stepped towards me, blue eyes piercing into my soul, “I can’t.” His dark leather jacket clung to his body. The lapel was open, revealing a black shirt beneath.
“Neither can I,” I answered. Collin’s gaze shifted between my mouth and my eyes. I couldn’t feel his thoughts. I couldn’t sense his emotions. Rising, I walked toward him. His eyes dropped to my hips, taking in the gentle sway of my walk until I stopped in front of him. I resisted the urge to reach out and run my fingers across his cheeks. I resisted and asked, “Do you really think I’d kill you?”
His jaw tensed. “It’s not whether you want to or not. It’s what happens.” Imp
ossibly blue eyes locked with mine. “I have to tell you something.” Looking up into his face, I wanted nothing more than to press my lips to his and melt in his arms. But I didn’t move. He stepped forward, and tilted his forehead down, touching it to mine. His fingers tangled in my hair, as his breath washed across my lips in a rush. “I have to tell you… something.” His words were barely audible.
My breath caught in his throat. I lifted my hands and placed them against his chest, touching the exposed skin at his throat just about his neckline. My finger traced along the edge of his shirt. “Tell me, then.” My hands slid around to the bare skin at the base of his neck. It was the only chink in his armor, the only place where we could still feel each other.
